Chapter Twelve

November 1811

Netherfield Park

Darcy

Darcy carefully considered Elizabeth's suggestion of informing Georgiana of their courtship without jeopardizing it. In the end, he composed a letter to his sister, providing sufficient detail to satisfy her, but not yet revealing his love for Elizabeth.

My dearest Georgiana,

How do you fare, my dear? It has been some time since we were last in company, and I have missed your presence fiercely. My days at Netherfield Park have eased something of my loneliness, but none here could ever take your place in my heart.

I have thought long about why I have yet to receive a missive from you. Aunt Tilda insists you need time to heal and has declared she will not break confidence with you, but I believe I have surmised at least part of the reason for your distress.

Besides being deceived by someone you trusted, I imagine you have been castigating yourself for causing me pain. I am not flattering myself with such thoughts; our aunt and Mrs. Annesley alluded to this in their correspondence, and I deduced it myself.

Do you fear I resent you? Do you believe your actions contributed to my difficult trials of the past year? Pray, believe me, Georgiana; I only blame myself for neglecting you, and I hold nothing against you.

Now, I wish to write of more pleasant matters. I have the good fortune to be pursuing a courtship whilst residing in Hertfordshire. I dare not speak much of the lady, lest tragedy befall her, but suffice it to say, we are often in company. She is an accomplished woman whom I admire very much. I would be fortunate indeed to win her hand, and by all accounts, her family is amenable to the match.

I dare not describe her features here, but I believe I can share something without consequence. My lady is an accomplished player of the pianoforte, and I imagine you both playing together for hours if you were to meet. She also possesses something you lack; that is to say, familial female companionship.

I have great hopes that our courtship will lead to its natural conclusion and then we might dispense with the subterfuge entirely. I pray you will forgive me if you do not attend my wedding. Discretion is in order, at present, and the entire event may need to be accomplished without alerting any of my family.

I hope that my words have granted you a measure of peace. Pray know that I miss you dearly and can hardly wait until we are together once again.

With love,

FD

Darcy read the letter once more, satisfied that his words regarding Elizabeth were sufficiently ambiguous to prevent anyone from deducing her identity. In fact, his information could apply to many ladies in Hertfordshire, including Miss Bingley. He wondered briefly if Georgiana would wonder if Bingley's sister was the object of his affections. They had never met before, though his sister knew his friend had an unmarried sister.

He sanded the letter, carefully folded and sealed it, then placed it with his other letters of business set aside for Jasper to post. Darcy had directed his manservant to post all his correspondence from Meryton to ensure the missives were not being purloined and read before they were on their way to their destinations.

There was a knock on his sitting room door, and Jasper promptly admitted Bingley.

"I know I said as much on the ride back to Netherfield, but I must thank you again for your assistance in courting Miss Bennet privately," he said.

Darcy smiled. "You are welcome." He studied his friend's countenance. Bingley's usual grin was missing; he noted his brows drawn together in a frown. "What has you so distressed?"

Bingley sighed, rubbing his temples in frustration. "I have just spent half an hour in company with my sisters. Louisa and Caroline are determined to have their say about Miss Bennet. Their words are not flattering."

"I am sorry you were subjected to their displeasure."

"My brother-in-law seems to have nothing against the Bennets," Bingley related. "But neither did he speak up when his wife—who is from trade, mind you—denigrated them. I find it ridiculous that my sisters have forgotten whence their fortunes came."

"It is a story that has repeated itself many times. The ton does not look favorably on new money. If you marry Miss Bennet, it does nothing to further their place in society. Mr. Bennet has no notable acquaintances in Town, and your sisters have ascertained as much through their interrogations of her. I understand from Miss Elizabeth that they were not circumspect in their questioning."

Bingley nodded. "Yes, Caroline expounded upon the consequences that would arise from having connections in Cheapside ."

"If it eases your mind, I have met one of the Bennet relations from London."

His friend perked up. "Have you? And what is your opinion? Caroline says their uncle is Mrs. Bennet's brother and uses her knowledge of that lady to illustrate how dreadful this tradesman must be."

Darcy shook his head. "In fact, it is he I have met. If I were to see Mr. Gardiner on the street, I would mistake him for a gentleman. He is well-mannered and polite, and nothing at all like his sister."

"That certainly takes the bite out of my sisters' argument," Bingley chuckled. "If I were worried about such things, their information may have concerned me. I am more concerned about the depth of Miss Bennet's feelings for me."

Darcy regarded him with consternation. "Can you be in any doubt of her sentiments?" He had observed Miss Bennet when he and Bingley had approached on their horses. She was far from unaffected by his friend.

"I was until our morning meetings began," Bingley confessed. "Miss Bennet is a serene creature, and she is kind to everyone. I was unsure whether she viewed me as a suitor or a pleasant acquaintance. You have been so occupied with concealing your regard for her sister, that I do not believe you have noted her natural reticence."

"I never studied her," Darcy admitted. "Miss Elizabeth told me long ago that she and Miss Bennet would never marry except for the deepest love. She assured me that her sister would turn away any man with whom she could not find such happiness."

Bingley brightened considerably. "I will not be angry at you for denying me this information for so long. You have fully made up for it with your scheming with Miss Elizabeth."

Darcy laughed. "Have you finally got over your irritation at being forced from bed so early in the morning? Or are you still sore about it?"

His friend assumed an air of affront. "Never! How could you believe it of me? The reward for rising at such an ungodly hour was well worth it."

"Then I will continue to expect your company."

"Of course."

~

Darcy and Bingley met with the Bennet ladies each morning for three days. They did not venture out on the Sabbath, but they spoke briefly to the ladies after the sermon. Though Mr. Bingley spoke at length to Jane after services on Sunday, Mr. Darcy moved about the congregation mingling in the courtyard, speaking to everyone to ensure he did not show a preference for any one person.

The next morning, he and Bingley rose with the sun and rode to Oakham Mount to meet their ladies. The gentlemen could see them standing on the summit of Oakham Mount as they approached. Darcy dismounted and left his horse to graze. He did not wait for Bingley and walked briskly toward Elizabeth.

Bundled snugly against the chill, she favored him with a brilliant smile as he approached. He kissed her hand, and together they joined the other couple. Mrs. Hill had packed a lovely basket to make certain they all breakfasted that morning, and they were laying out the victuals on a rug overlooking the view. Comfortably settled, the little group partook of freshly baked scones, preserves, and dried fruit.

"Is Derbyshire much different from Hertfordshire?" Elizabeth asked at length.

"It is much colder," Darcy replied. "I find the weather here rather pleasant in comparison."

"Lizzy abhors the winter," Jane teased. "It keeps her indoors for far too long, and she grows irritated and sullen."

"Oh, you tease!" Elizabeth said, swatting at her sister playfully. "I walk out nearly as often, even in the snow."

They all laughed and finished eating before separating in favor of some private conversation.

"How do you fare this morning, Elizabeth?" Darcy drank in her appearance. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold, her eyes brightened by the exercise. They twinkled merrily at him as she replied.

"I am very well, sir," she said. "Jane was harder to rouse this morning. I imagine once these early meetings are no longer necessary, she will return to her usual habits."

He laughed. "Bingley, too, was rather surly as we rode out. I think he will follow your sister's suit once our ruse is over. What shall we speak of today?"

Elizabeth tapped her chin as if in thought. "Share with me a childhood memory," she requested. "Something significant—embarrassing, touching, or meaningful, but not trivial or commonplace."

Standing at the edge of the summit, Darcy turned his eyes to the countryside. The morning frost was quickly melting to dew, and a mist was rising from the tall grass.

"When I was a boy, I did not understand the scope of responsibility that came with being the master of an estate. My father instructed me well in caring for tenants and keeping the estate solvent, but it was my mother who taught me to value the people who served me.

"I was ten years old when I came into the house one day knee-deep in mud. I tossed my coat upon a settee in the cloakroom. It became smeared with the mud of my coat and boots as I removed them, but I did not take notice, just leaving them there. Then, I began to make my way upstairs to my dressing room, calling for a bath to be drawn as I did so."

He paused, and shaking his head, he felt the return of the chagrin his mother had invoked in him so many years ago. He grinned shyly at Elizabeth and went on.

"My mother stopped me on the stairs. Without yelling or scolding, she took my elbow and led me back to the cloakroom. We stood outside the door and watched as two maids gingerly picked up my things and took them to the kitchens to be cleaned. They carried my soiled coat and boots through the servant's door as I watched the mud drip off my things the entire way.

"Sadly, I did not comprehend her lesson immediately. I demanded she let me go to my chambers. I was cold and dirty, and I wanted to bathe. Instead, she asked me to remove the mud from the floor. I rolled my eyes and stooped to do as I was told. Rather than finding it an easy task, as I had surmised, I found it difficult. The mud smeared and the more I worked, the worse it got. After ten minutes, she bid me to come to her.

"She explained that my carelessness had given our staff extra work to do. Had I entered the house through the kitchens, they could have avoided cleaning the mess I left for them."

He chuckled mirthlessly. "I snapped at her. ‘Is it not a servant's purpose, to see to their master's needs?' I asked. Mother was kind, yet firm. She told me that the difference between a good master and an excellent one is how he treats those beneath him. The servants are not objects; they are people. It is our responsibility to care for them, even as they care for us."

He sighed. "I left her presence angry. I stomped up the stairs and slammed my door, startling a maid who was carrying a heavy bucket of hot water for my bath. It splashed on her feet, and she cried out in pain. Jasper appeared and took the bucket from her, directing her to return to the kitchen. Unfortunately, it took that poor maid sustaining an injury for me to realize how my actions reflected poorly upon me. After that, I became far more aware of such things."

Elizabeth was silent for a moment. "That is quite the story," she said. "It helps explain your honorable nature. Not every gentleman would allow a maid to ride in his carriage just to deliver a note."

"Sally did not need to walk in the cold. It was within my power to see her comfortable. Besides, she is taking very good care of us."

Elizabeth nodded in agreement. "It is my turn to share a memory," she said. "I will relate something embarrassing, however. Your story was plenty serious for me!"

She tapped a finger on her chin and her eyes lit up. "At the age of five, I took to following the village boys around. They minded little, and though I am certain I annoyed them mercilessly, they never turned me away… except once."

She grinned, her expression far away and lost in the memory. "It was very hot that summer, hotter than any I remember since. The boys told me I could not accompany them that afternoon, and naturally, I ignored them and pursued them in secret. They went to a pond that hides in a stand of trees some distance from here. They stripped down to their breeches and jumped in. It was not deep and came only to their knees."

She looked up at Darcy, assessing his reaction before she continued. "I stood in the shade, but it was dreadfully hot, nonetheless. I eagerly tugged at my gown until the top buttons came undone and pulled it over my head. There I stood in my chemise and before anyone could stop me, I joined the boys."

Darcy guffawed; he could well imagine it!

"The boys were startled at first, but soon we were laughing and playing as happily as can be… until the nursemaid found us. It seems everyone at Longbourn was frantic with worry. I had been missing for hours and they thought the worst. The nurse was livid and ordered me out of the pond immediately. I refused. After failing to gain my compliance, she marched away and returned with my parents. I am certain you can guess how they responded. Mama shrieked about impropriety and ruin, using many words a five-year-old could not understand. Papa smothered a laugh but requested I join them on the bank. He wrapped me in his coat to preserve my modesty and took me home. It was only a few years ago that I understood how badly I had behaved." In mock surprise, she jested, "Perhaps that is why none of the local gentlemen ever bothered to court me!"

Darcy was laughing openly now. "I do not believe I would call that embarrassing, but such a tale is endearing," he said. He pulled out his watch to check the time. "We must be off," he said regretfully.

Bingley was already approaching with Jane on his arm. Darcy regretfully informed Elizabeth that he and Mr. Bingley would be unavailable the next morning. There was estate business that required attention. Bingley had business with his steward and Darcy would assist him. Thus, Elizabeth suggested they meet in Meryton the next afternoon instead; the gentlemen agreed. They mounted their horses and watched the sisters and their maid meander down the path toward Longbourn, and giving each other a knowing look, turned them toward Netherfield.